


You Could Use Some Comfort

by queerplantbaby



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerplantbaby/pseuds/queerplantbaby
Summary: Martin's feeling bad on the anniversary of his mother's death. Luckily Jon's there to help.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	You Could Use Some Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> this is just nonsense fluff im so sorry.

Martin laid on the well worn couch, curled on his side. His tears flowed over his cheeks and left a small wet spot on the cushion. Jon was supposed to be home an hour ago. It was bad enough that he had to work late today, of all the days he had to be late, today. With a shuddering breath, Martin started to shift himself upright. His eyes closed as another wave of tears swept over him, leaving his chest tight and his nose burning. The cool metal of his wedding band was desperately welcome on his hot skin as he rubbed tears from his eyes. 

Suddenly there was a strange noise at the door. A clatter of objects and rustling and clinking. Martin stood up and looked out the peephole. On the other side was a one Jonathan Sims, inelegantly squatting down, trying to pick up a set of keys without setting down any of the numerous bulging bags in his hands. It was enough to make Martin crack a small smile as he opened the door and watched a hot blush creep over Jon’s face. 

“Ah, um, thank you, Martin.” There was a long pause as Jon shuffled into the living room, depositing the bags on their small coffee table. A few items fall off the table and out of the bags as he tries to steady it all. 

“You’re...I just was hoping you’d be home. I needed- its just a bad day for me.” Martin’s smile fades and he turns to lock the door. 

“I know, its- .” 

“Its the one year - “

“Your mother. Yes.” He crosses the room and slides his hands along Martin’s waist as he pulls him into a hug. They stay there together, for a long moment. Martin’s shuddering breaths just make Jon grip him tighter, as if holding him closer could help him share the burden of Martin’s sadness. So he knows that he’s not alone, not now and not as long as they’re together. With a deep breath, both their grips relax, and Martin takes a step back. 

He sniffles lightly and rubs Jon’s cheek with the back of his hand. 

“So...what’s all this about?” Martin looks over Jon’s head, to the pile of bags on the table. 

“Oh, I just thought that...well maybe you could use some….comfort.” 

“Comfort?” 

“Yes, I, I took it upon myself to stop at the grocery after work, hence my tardiness. I picked up some things that i thought you might like,” Jon walks over to the bags and starts pulling out items at random, “A documentary on tea making in the Yunnan province, some sort of- well they generously call it cheese- puffs, something called “X-Treme Blasted Cookie-O’s”, now I don’t know what they’ve been blasted with but --” Jon’s next words were muffled as Martin pulled him into an all encompassing hug and gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head. They both sat on the couch and started rummaging through the bags. Jon pulled out two red apples and neatly put them in front of himself, and then grabbed the documentary and started to put it into their disc player. 

“Martin would you mind if the subtitles were in Hungarian? I’ve been meaning to practice.” 

“As long as the audio is in English.” Jon gave a small hum of appreciation, while Martin went back to rummaging through the bags. “Hey, Jon? “   
  


“Hm?”

“I thought you hate the way instant noodles smell?”

“Yes well, I know you like them, and I think I’ll be fine for one night. I’ve survived worse.” 

“You know, I think you might actually like these if I prepare them a certain way.” 

“Doubtful, Martin. 

Jon finishes setting up the disc player, and settles onto the couch next to Martin, sliding as close to him as he can. Martin, meanwhile, is busy crushing up the instant noodles in the bag. 

“Here.” Martin holds the open bag out to Jon.

“Aren’t these supposed to be cooked?”

“I mean, sometimes.”

Warily, Jon reaches in and gingerly takes one small piece. The noodles are crushed into little chunks and covered in a light orange powder. With a small glance towards Martin for reassurance, he places it in his mouth. 

“Well?” Martin looks over at him, while chewing on some cheese puffs. Without any expression at all, Jon turns to Martin and points at the bag. 

“How much sodium is even in here?” Jon reaches out and grabs the bag from Martin’s lap, and without so much as a glance at the packaging, pulls it close to his chest and picks another piece out and puts it in his mouth. “Hm.” 

With a small laugh, Martin leans over and kisses Jon gently on the lips, lingering in their warmth for just a second. 

“You taste like….cheese.” Jon doesn’t look up at Martin as he settles closer and wraps an arm around his waist. 

“And you taste like my junior year of high school, so.” Martin hears a snort of fake offense coming from Jon’s face pressed up against his side. 

“ _ More tea is grown in China than in anywhere else in the world….”  _


End file.
